


The Trial

by persistent_pedantry



Series: The Collected Escapades of Minerva and René Galliard IV [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-14 22:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20608586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persistent_pedantry/pseuds/persistent_pedantry
Summary: A collection of stories, beginning with the end to many crime sprees: a courtroom. There must be some irony here.





	The Trial

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first story I wrote for Minerva and René as fully fledged characters. They weren’t very developed at all, but they were there. I tried remaking this story once to little avail; I might post that some time.
> 
> At least the remake was a little more accurate to real court proceedings, and with better paragraphs since I felt like paragraphs didn’t apply to me for some reason.

_Kalos_ _ Supreme Court_

_Courtroom 1_

_14 September 2017, 3:30PM _

_Kalos v Galliard_

The slam of the gavel resounds through the courtroom, garnering silence from the generously filled courtroom. No-one's seen the court this full in a while, perhaps a few months; a lot of people want this man put away, it seems. The spectators' balcony is packed, every seat taken. Murmurs has died, silence has fallen, eyes all training on to the man wearing the rightfully ridiculous wig - well, that's what René thought of it, anyway.

"René Galliard the Fourth," the judge begins, clearing his throat stately, "You have been convicted of five accounts of murder, twelve of assault, harbouring a fugitive for over ten years, and countless instances of the illegal capturing and distribution of Pokémon. How do you plead?" The man in the overcoat blinks, ice glistening in his eyes as he gives a dismissive shrug. "Your Honour, I can't think of any fugitive that I've been harbouring. What, has my little Minerva stolen an apple?" He chuckles, the judge watching him gravely. "No, Mr. Galliard, both you and your Gardevoir are accountable for the aforementioned crimes since you have legally proclaimed that she is your legal and moral equal and, ergo, your 'partner in crime.'"

René remains silent for a moment or two, humming softly in thought as he glances to the empty seat next to him. It would be nice to have a lawyer. He couldn't exactly find anyone who was willing to take up the job of defending a known Hunter - not a prosecuted one, but everyone in the courtroom knows he's guilty. It's just a matter of how many tricks he can pull out of his sleeve. "But of course, Your Honour," René chuckles, leaning back in his chair in apparent thought. "Well, I wouldn't mind seeing some evidence first. It's a bit rude of you to accuse me of such heinous crimes without suitable reason to do so, no?"

The judge clears his throat a second time, nodding to a uniformed woman at the back before what looks to be security footage lights up the projector board to the off-left. It's large enough, at least. Large enough for even an old man to see René taking a Tyranitar from a lanky looking teenager, only for him to disappear with Minerva, seconds later. A ghost of a smile passes René's lips. Ah, yes. He remembers that job. Such a dim-witted boy. What was his name? Mav... Marv... Marvey? Harvey? Oh, something along those lines.

A second clip plays, then a third, then a fourth; by the seventh, the man in the footage is reading through the case file he had been given. They really did their research. Maybe he'll have to give Alphonse a call; he's always been very good with all the loopholes - well, he's better be. He is a conman, after all. After about a minute of the evidence playing, accompanied by René's quiet humming, one of the several men in suits stood up. The persecutor, apparently. He seems irate. "Your Honour, he- he's just been reading through his case file! He's not even taking this-!" The lawyer sputters, the judge looking at him sternly, raising a hand in prohibition. "Calm yourself, Mr. Chopin." René looks up from the papers, almost sceptical of what he had heard. "Chopin? As in the pianist?" He asks, earning a glare from Chopin. "I'm a lawyer, not a pianist." All that the stern words garnered were a slight snigger, and another slam of the gavel.

”Order in the court. Chopin, Galliard; you two are in the most important legal building in Kalos. Please act like it," the judge warns, the Hunter nodding briefly in understanding, while Chopin offers a stiff nod of respect. "Now," the judge continues, looking at René. "How do you plead?" René pauses briefly, looking over the eyes on him with slight apprehension - apprehension that was swapped for surprise the moment he called out his claim: "Guilty."

Chopin almost chokes on his breath, the judge blinking with surprise; the spectators seem put off, to add. For someone who's been running from the law for so long, it doesn't seem right that such a notorious criminal would just... give in like that. The judge pauses briefly before giving a sober nod, adjusting the grip on his gavel. "So you fully admit to all stated crimes?" He questions, René nodding in confirmation. "I do, yes. Why do you think I didn't bring a lawyer? It's just that I do, but my partner should still have her say in this. Considering that we're legal equals, then if I go to prison, then I assume that she follows suit." The courtroom seems to freeze for a moment or two, everyone lulling over the notion before the judge speaks once again, nodding towards the Pokéball on the table, along with a few scraps of evidence: some Ultra Ball shards with his shoe's marks on them, a log of finances; nothing too glamorous, but definitely enough to incriminate. "Release Miss Minerva." The uniformed guard beside the table nods compliantly, adjusting his gloves minutely before rapping his knuckle against the Pokéball, a white flash erupting an instant later.

”Miss Minerva," the judge begins, watching the bewildered Gardevoir carefully as she ambles her way over to René. "Miss Minerva, stop. We need you to put on a collar for general safety, mainly to restrict psychic- psychic- Miss Minerva!" He continues, growing exasperated as the Gardevoir blatantly ignores him, holding René's hand contentedly as several uniformed figures hurry towards them, pistols rising from holsters.

But they aimed at thin air.

The courtroom fell silent, only the gentle fall of the case file's page and Chopin's breathless stammering could be heard. "The... The case file has been written on, Your Honour. Galliard wrote on it, but it's in French." "I speak French," Chopin cuts in, hurrying over to read the pretentious cursive. He says nothing for a good half a minute. "So?" The judge questions, "What does it say?"

_Attrape-moi si tu peux_

Chopin looks at the writing numbly, gripping the file and throwing it as far away as he could, pursing his lips enough that they might burst. "'Catch me if you can'," he wheezes. "It says 'Catch me if you can'."


End file.
